


Heat

by feroxargentea



Category: due South
Genre: M/M, commentfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:20:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25841974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feroxargentea/pseuds/feroxargentea
Summary: Winters in Chicago aren't that cold.
Relationships: Benton Fraser/Ray Kowalski
Comments: 17
Kudos: 43





	Heat

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Ringer](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25750678) by [thisgirlsays22](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisgirlsays22/pseuds/thisgirlsays22). 



Ray is rooting through his closet, goosebumps rising on his skin in the early-winter chill, when he finds the T-shirt. Its white cotton is dulled to gray, its lettering indistinct against the muddied background. He rubs the fabric between his fingers, remembering blinding sun and heaving nightclubs and the heady summer heat of Acapulco. Damp humidity, the sharp prickle of sweat, and the ache of sand grains under his fingernails. The lurch in his chest as Stacie turned away from him, and the weird lightness as soon as she was gone.

He drops the T-shirt on the floor and reaches for another. He sleeps naked for as much of the year as he can bear, but it’s too cold in his apartment now to walk around unclothed.

“Is everything okay?” Ben asks, coming up behind him and wrapping warm, strong arms around him. Ben doesn’t mind at all that Ray sleeps naked. He won’t quit wearing his own ridiculous all-in-ones, but Ray has discovered he loves the way Ben feels through cloth, loves how hot Ben finds it to be touched like that, and _really_ loves unpopping the buttons one by one when Ben can’t take it anymore.

Ben untwines one arm and bends to pick up the discarded T-shirt. “Oh, your favorite Blackhawks one!” he says. “What happened to it?”

“Washed it with my poncho,” Ray says. “The poncho ran.”

“Ah. I’m sorry, Ray.”

Ray takes the T-shirt from him and tosses it into the trashcan. “Don’t be,” he says, and means it. He turns and presses himself back up against Ben’s body, letting its tropical heat soak into him. It’s headier than anything Acapulco could offer. Ben is pushing back, too, his skin burning hot, and Ray suddenly finds himself laughing.

“What?” Ben says.

“Nothin’,” Ray says, and runs both hands over Ben’s cloth-covered ass. “C’mon, Ben, come back to bed. You’re wearing way too much for winter in Chicago.”


End file.
